Two's A Demon's Curse
by bakabelle
Summary: Destiel FBI/Coffee shop!au: When a mysterious killer who targets people who raise kids alone returns from Dean's past and everyone he loves is put in danger, how we he keep the people he cares about the most safe? All this in the midst of a city romance will it end in tears? Angst, crack, fluff, Chap!3:"Aren't you missing his, what was it, beautiful green eyes and perfect smile?"
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: New story because this idea's been around my head for a while, and have wanted to do an FBI!au thing for a while. Naturally it's destiel but I may add more pairings along the way. I try and make my fics better as they go and so I'm trying to keep this one paced. Please let me know what you think/what you'd like to see/any other thoughts. This will be updated randomly as I'll probably focus on my other two active fics. **

They had the place surrounded. The hostage was being kept in the basement of the surburban house. Dean, Benny and Jo were going in to keep the situation from going nuclear and to get the hostages out and subdue the captors with force if necessary. It was Jo's first real case out in the field that wasn't just pen pushing and paperwork and she was clearly eager to impress. The DSS handle cases ranging from theft, rape, assault and murder. This particular case had proven itself to be a sloppy trail of breadcrumbs from a first time captor.

"Benny, I'm taking point, you follow and Jo you keep the door covered. No one gets in or out until we say so, including you, understand? We're getting this guy out, alive." Dean instructed quietly and Jo and Benny both nodded. Dean's radio hissed at him and he grabbed it and listened to the voice on the other side.

"Unit A approaching house, un-sub is armed and extremely dangerous, I repeat extremely dangerous. Watch yourself agents." The voice, their over-seeing agent, Bobby warned them.

"Got it." Dean informed the radio and then returned it to his pocket. Now in full on mission mode the team slowly neared the house, Dean in front, Benny covering his flank and Jo following them up.

They entered the house and Dean motioned to Benny who nodded and they both proceeded into the first door on the left, into the living area where they could engage the captor. The both entered at the same time.

"DSS, drop the weapon." Dean commanded in his military tone.

"Sir, drop the weapon." Benny enforced.

"Your place is surrounded, come quietly and we can make this easier for you but first you must put down the weapon. We're not gonna' try anything." Dean reasoned, confident from experience in the field. The captor looked torn as he glanced down at the hostage, who's head he'd pressed a gun to.

This was it, Dean noticed. This was the moment, the moment in which the primal fight or flight instinct could kick in. This split second was crucial and both he and Benny knew better than to make any sudden movements or loud noises as it could trigger an adrenaline rush and a blitz attack. Besides he appeared to be on the verge of coming quietly, not making any demands or monologues, this guy wasn't cut out for this. It was going to just be an easy step-by-step transition to get him from the one in control to get him to submit as long as they kept to the plan.

Unfortunately, it didn't go to plan. Jo burst into the room and fired at the un-sub. Inexperience with fire-arms naturally lead to a miss but more importantly, the captor freaked. Benny, closest to the door saw what would happen at the same time as Dean, however Dean couldn't get there quick enough. Throwing himself in front of Jo, Benny took a shot to the torso and what seemed like hundreds more shots sounded around the room. Everyone but the captor was on the ground.

The hostage screamed despite his duct tape gag, Jo screamed as well. Dean's mind completely cleared into action now.

"Jo, get him out, now!" Dean bellowed. He took his gun and emptied a clip into the ceiling, leaving silence in his wake.

Taking a look at the offender he was barely twenty, still just a kid. He was wide-eyed and apparently near-hyperventilation as he held his gun out stretched, shaking dramatically, growing more angry by the second. Jo and Benny were gone from the room but Dean had to focus on the hostage for now before he could worry about Benny.

He incredibly slowly, and with his hands raised, got to his feet, leaving his empty gun on the floor. He really didnt want to shoot this guy anyway, he looked way too young.

"You said- You said, you lied! You lied to me!" In his fury caused by Jo's apparent treachery he turned his weapon to the victim. Dean dropped to the ground, grabbed Benny's abandoned gun and fired twice into the captors chest and he hit the ground instantly. Dean grabbed the victim and untied him, quickly helping him from the house.

As he left the house medics appeared from nowhere and everywhere to take the hostage and get him medical attention. He saw Benny getting put into an ambulace but his friend gave him a weak thumbs up to which he sighed deeply but nodded in return, he owed him one. Bobby came into his line of vision, a solemn expression on his face.

"What the hell happened?!" He fumed at an exhausted Dean. He caught sight of Jo standing a couple of metres away, looking ready to jump in but Dean took the fall.

"I made a bad call, fired early, he freaked, Benny took a hit and then I shot him again twice and took him out."

"Do you have any idea of the collaterol that could come outta' this ya' damn idjit?! I thought you were less of a god damn fool than your Daddy, boy! Forget it, go get cleaned up. I want a report on my desk by tomorrow morning." Bobby marched away, going to address a crowd of reporters who were barely being held back by strained policemen. Jo walked over, looking ashamed of herself as she let her hair fall in front of her face as a barrier between her and the hell Dean would unleash.

"Thanks," She said quietly.

"What the hell were you thinking, huh? You think you've got something to prove because it's your first case? You could've got yourself killed! Or Benny! Count yourself lucky he's got half a brain to get you out of the way, too bad he hasn't got the other half or he wouldn't have got himself shot! You let me know if he's okay and then I want your gun handed in tomorrow, your on file duty forever, starting now. Now go find Ash." And with that Dean stormed away, not wanting any response.

As he left he got swarmed by reporters and his Chief asked him to give a press statement but he refused and eventually managed to get around them. He stomped the entire three blocks to his baby, an Impala Chevy. As he got in and slammed the door he let his head rest against the wheel as he reassessed his 'talk' with Jo. Maybe he was too harsh on her. Taking off his flat jacket and removing his gun holder from his leg, he allowed himself three punches to the dashboard before promptly apologising to his baby and starting the car.

When he got back to his apartment on 9th he dumped his keys and jacket at the door and kicked off his shoes. It was gone ten and he expected Sam to already be in bed but was surprised to find his 12 year old brother sat up glued to the news.

"Sam?" Sam started at his brother's voice but before Dean could reprimand him for ignoring his bedtime Sam ran to him and hugged his brother with all of his might. It took Dean aback a little and after a second he processed things and lifted his little brother up into his arms.

"What's this about, man?" Dean asked, Sam's head on his shoulder.

"You said this was a big one, a big case, Dean. The people on the news are talking about it but I couldn't see you, and, and Arnold Moore said because you were a cop you were gonna' get shot and I said for him to shut up because he doesn't know my brother, but then you didn't come back for ages and I couldn't see you on the tv and-" Sam's voice waned with his distress as he clearly attempted not to cry in front of his brother and Dean rubbed a reassuring hand up and down his back.

"Woah, woah, woah, slow down. One, I'm not a cop. Two, who cares what '_Arnold Moore_' says, he sounds he's off Thomas the Tank Engine." Sam sniffed a laugh and Dean carried on his big brother routine, he fell into it well.

"I'm good at what I do, no one's getting shot. You know why I'm not getting shot, because I've gotta' make you breakfast in the morning, man." Sam laughed again, a little louder this time.

"And God forbid this little man doesn't get his lucky charms, huh?" Dean said and began tickling his brother who squirmed and laughed loudly and Dean smiled.

"Everything's fine, and its always gonna' be fine, okay? Besides, you need anyone you can always call Uncle Bobby as well, you know that." Sam nodded and Dean sighed.

"Look at me," Sam did as he was told.

"See any holes?" Dean said comically and Sam snorted and nodded. Dean mocked being shocked and apalled but he knew the game.

"Where?!" He said in mock-horror. Sam leaned over and pointed into his ear.

"There's a hole in there, I can see straight through." Sam chortled and Dean laughed too before ticklin his brother again.

"A wise guy, eh?" He said in his not-so-perfected Boston accent as he hoisted Sam over his shoulder, at which Sam let out a happily startled yelp and Dean carried him into his bedroom. When in his room he dumped his brother onto his bed and Sam laughed away with a huge smile on his face, Dean's favourite.

"Time for bed, way past in fact. Come on, get under the covers." Dean said with a kind authority. He'd never had to use much disipline with Sam because his brother respected him so much, he was a star kid and didn't cause much trouble. Dean still worried about him though. He tucked his brother in and then went to bed himself, exhausted. Had he known what was to greet him the next morning, he might not have been so eager getting to work.

XXXXXXX

"Is Mommy going to be okay?" He asked again. Castiel sighed with an easy smile.

"Of course she is, you Mother is always fine, she's just seeing the doctor to help her get better again, to stop her from being poorly." He said calmly as he took the plates out of the living room and into the kitchen, placing them in the sink.

"You know it's far too late for you to still be up." Castiel noted and the child waved away his thought, eyes saucers at the sight on the television. Castiel frowned at the news. A special ops team had, had to help a captured man escape a house at gunpoint. Not exactly suitable tv for a nine year old. He took the remote and turned off the television. The child frowned up at him as he yawned yet again, depsite his attempts not to.

"Uncle Castiel!" He protested but after a second the boy spoke again.

"Do you think the good guys beat the baddies?" Castiel honestly pondered the question for a moment, wondering what sort of person it would take to go into such a situation but had some strange feeling in his mind that somehow, everything was fine.

"I'm sure they did, Samandriel. Now, it's time for you to go to bed."

"Do I have to? Can't I see Mom?" Castiel sighed again at his nephew. His sister, Anna, was in a mental institution after another psychotic break, leaving Castiel as the next of kin to take care of her nine year old son Samandriel. As far as he knew, his Mother was simply a little ill. Sometimes that's all she'd seem to be as she could often appear completely ordinary and healthy, but unfortunately these things bury themselves and reappear when they please, not when best suited.

"You're going to see Uncle Gabriel tomorrow, remember?" Castiel said with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. He saw his nephews shoulders slump slightly.

"What? I thought you enjoyed staying with Uncle Gabriel." Castiel said sadly.

"Oh, I do. He's fun and gives me candy."

"Far too much." Castiel noted disapprovingly, unintentionally drawing a smirk from his nephew.

"I just wondered if I could stay with you tomorrow, please?" He added hopefully and Castiel could see how Samandriel had his hands behind his back, hiding his crossed fingers.

"I'm sorry, Samandriel, I wish I could but I have to work tomorrow." He said apologetically and the nine year old pouted as his hands landed in his lap and he looked heart breakingly forlorn.

"On saturday, I'll take you somewhere, anywhere you'd like to go, would you like that?" His nephew perked up instantly.

"Really?" He gasped and Castiel laughed.

"Of course, if that's what you wish to do. After all you have been very good."

"Yes, yes, yes please, yes!" The boy clapped his hands together in delight and Castiel smiled down at him.

"Then that's what we'll do. Now, it's time for you to be in bed." And with that he carried his nephew to his bed, tucked him in and returned to the living room and turned the television back on.

"-of my best agents was hit but he's expected to make a full recovery and the perpetrator has been subdued." An older man with a gruff voice and a beard informed them. Castiel shook his head, that poor man. He turned the television off and went to bed, unaware of the real danger he was going to be in from now to the forseeable future.

**A/N: I hope this is okay for you guys and things will develop soon. I'll try and get the first chapters out as quickly as I can but any suggestions always help me write and will definitely make me write more quickly so please review for me even just for a little message, it all helps. Hope anyone enjoyed. Updates soon. Thanks for reading! Izzie.**


	2. Chapter 2 - A Demon Resurfaces

**A/N: So I know it's been a while but this fic is one that I'm not going to rush if I can help it because I really want all the chapters to be the best they can be. Luckily I've completely finished high school now so updates will inevitably be more frequent! I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

Castiel awoke to a symphony of alarms, as per usual. He was a surprisingly heavy sleeper and had to set several different methods of alarms to get him up, but once he was up he was fresh and ready for the day. Unlike the common work-a-day-Joe he had no addiction to coffee, ironic seeing as he worked in a shop dedicated to it.

He rolled out of bed, pulling on a white dress shirt, a skinny blue tie, a trendy navy blazer and some comfortable trousers which, to his chagrin, were not as smart as he would've hoped for them to look. Despite always wanting to look smart, Castiel did have some flare for looking unintentionally good and wearing comfortable clothes was an unavoidable necessity when working in the service industry. Noticing it was raining he made a mental note to take his trench coat to work today.

He made his way out of his room, putting on his shoes in the process, and proceeded to the guest room to wake up his nephew. Being the October it was half term for Samandriel so Castiel had to find different ways to accommodate him not being at school for a week or two. Mid-October was almost unnaturally chilly and the winds had that seasonal icy bite to them that made your nose turn pink and your eyes water.

"Samandriel," He said gently but his nephew didn't stir.

"Sam, it's time to wake up, let's get you to Uncle Gabriel, I think he said something about cake on the phone." He watched as his nephew slowly sat up and then sprang to life. It always amazed Castiel to watch his mere jovial velocity as he flew at what felt like hypersonic speeds and was ready in minutes to dash off to his other Uncle, forgetting the previous nights' protest. After helping Samandriel into his rain coat, Castiel then took his own coat, shrugging it on and grabbing his keys and locking the door behind them.

He passed over Samandriel to Gabriel who was more than happy to see the kid and scooped him up in a mad tickling fest much to Sam's squeals.

"We're gonna' go out today, pal, you excited!" Gabriel announced and Samandriel raised an unconvinced eyebrow, making Gabriel snort as he looked uncharacteristically like his Uncle Castiel when he did so.

"In this weather?" He queried, pointedly looking outside as it was beginning to rain heavily and the winds were making the trees groan under pressure.

"Hell yeah in this weather, we're gonna' go and have some fun, okay, buddy?" He laughed and he just had a way with kids and Samandriel was grinning and nodding as he wondered where they could be going. Gabriel's tactical distraction was much obliged by Castiel who'd managed to slip away during the exchange.

Going back to his old car he opened the fondly creaking door and prayed it would start. It was increasingly unreliable, particularly in harsh weather conditions when the engine liked to overheat leaving him perpetually frightened of an explosion, naturally he knew nothing of cars either and really couldn't afford a mechanic splash out right now, having two mouths to feed proved stretching on his salary.

Forcing the keys round the car coughed and spluttered, trying with all its might but it had a track record of not performing under pressure. Even the whining sound died away and he was left with a completely dead car, half an hour from his shop, no reception to call a taxi and in the pouring rain no less. Great, he thought to himself as he glanced at the clock and sighed, climbing out of the car and diving straight into a sprint.

XXXXXXX

Dean rolled out of bed unconsciously and woke with a groan when he thumped onto the cold floor. Cursing he stumbled up blearily pulling on a pair of jeans, a green shirt and a plaid shirt over the top. Hopping as he pulled on his boots he called to Sam.

"Sam, we need to go, come on!" He opened his phone and saw he was pretty early. Today as Sam wasn't in school for half term, Dean was going to drop him off at the local Plucky's. He knew Sam hated the place, the clowns to boot just made the whole experience more traumatising but he really did have nothing else he could do. Bringing Sam into work after yesterday was just not an option, he was going to be rushed off of his feet and for some reason he couldn't help but feel the need to get Sam as far away from the place as he could.

Throwing some toast and a banana his brother's way when Sam emerged from his room, tired-eyed he earned a surprised grunt.

"That's what you get for staying up so late, big guy." Dean teased lightly and Sam rolled his eyes, a gesture Dean was very proud to have passed onto the next generation of Winchester.

"Dean-" He began to whine already but Dean stopped him short.

"I know, man. I know it sucks and I wouldn't leave you there if I didn't have to but just for today I need you to just do this for me, okay? I owe you one, alright." He gave an apologetic and Sam sighed but threw a sad one in return, not wanting to push his already overworked brother any further. He knew Dean wouldn't leave him there unless he had to, still didn't change the fact he was going to be stuck with a load of giant paint-faced killers for the whole day.

"Oh and I don't want any more calls saying you've attacked another clown, alright? That self defence is just for real emergencies, okay," Dean reprimanded absent-mindedly as he read through his report again and poured Sam some orange.

"But Dean, he was going to kill-!" Sam started in outrage but one look from Deans silenced him.

"Spraying you with a flower is not murder, Sammy." He said fondly to his blushing younger brother.

"One day, alright. Make some friends or something this time." He smiled and gathered their things as they left.

Dean dropped his solemn-faced brother, barely holding in a snort as Sam seemingly prepared himself for battle as he got out of the car. Dean saluted him and saw him in before leaving to get his daily shot of energy from his generic coffee shop that he'd begun to despise as the girl behind the counter, Becky, freaked him out. Pulling outside the shop and glancing in through the rain he saw Becky grinning and waving at him and just the laptop on her counter made Dean pull away immediately. He really did need some coffee though.

He could barely make out anything through the downpour but what looked like akin to some form of coffee shop slid into view. He reluctantly turned off his baby, his Chevy Impala 67' and squinted through the rain. With a sigh he reluctantly climbed out into the onslaught of water and was quickly ambushed with an offending waterfall. Within mere moments he was drowning in his own clothes.

His hair was like his own personal sponge and he foolishly pulled a hand through it, and the friendly fire poured down his face and he laughed into the rain at his own predicament. All for coffee.

Walking along the sidewalk he closed his eyes a little through the attack of liquid he kept what little eyesight he did have fixated on the door. Reaching it he peered inside and laughed again, this time bitterly at his own expense, the place wasn't even open. He groaned to the world and turned to walk back to his car when a figure smacked directly into him.

Knocked back by the force of their own collision, the figure fell backwards and instinctively Dean reached out a steadying hand that found its way around the other's waist and pulled them back. Effectively the person was pulled in against Dean's chest. Taking the time to really look Dean's eyes widened a little at the slightly shorter man gazed up at him, an odd look on his face but that didn't matter as Dean couldn't help but stare at this guy's eyes.

The bright blue ocean orbs were dizzying as they seemed to look _through_ him. They were a stark contrast from the dark brown bed head that busied itself with sticking up at all angles possible. In the cold air the man's lips were a deep shade of pink and looked unfairly enticing. Their breath fogged in deep puffs and it seemed to snap Dean out of his trance as he cleared his throat and released the guy.

"You okay, dude?" He asked, kind of concerned as the man looked terrified. The guy gulped and gawped a little as he tried to word his answer before simply setting on nodding.

"Thank you," He managed and _wow_ that was an unexpectedly deep voice in contrast to the confusing innocence of his face.

"Sure thing, man." Dean chuckled and the other man's cheeks went scarlet as he set about getting out a set of keys. It was then that Dean realised this guy must work in the coffee shop.

XXXXXXX

Castiel had been at a physical loss of words when he'd looked up at his newly found saviour. He'd embarrassingly ran straight into someone and instead of the harsh ground he'd braced himself for he felt a strong arm wrap itself around his hips and pull sharply as if he weighed nothing at all. This man had startlingly green eyes. In the surrounding grey of the dank October morning they stood out distinctly like an emerald in a filing cabinet. An odd analogy, but so fitting it was strange. His had a strong, attractive face and his hair shone in the rain and made him look like some male model in a photo shoot. He was immediately chagrined as he realised how ridiculous he must look, like a drowned rat, red-faced and strangled from nature's wrath. The man was looking down at him curiously and he found he simply couldn't bring himself to move. He was, embarrassingly, near-panting. Suddenly he was mourning the loss of warm arms around him and green eyes staring warmly into his own. He became immediately self aware and managed to thank the stranger before fumbling with his keys, expecting the man to have walked away by the time he got inside.

Pulling down the chairs and peeling his coat from him he sighed at his own idiotic behaviour. Why hadn't he said something? Asked for a number or something? As he made his way around the counter he turned and made a noise of surprise as he found the same man opposite him, leaning across the counter with a smile.

"So could I get a black coffee?" He smiled and Castiel thought he'd melt as he returned a weak smile and took a deep breath when he turned around. Steeling himself he forced himself to speak.

"I'm sorry I ran into you." He stated and the man laughed, a sound which was remarkably pleasant to Castiel.

"No problem, man. I didn't see you either." His coffee was made quickly and the man took it gratefully, handing some money across the counter which Castiel promptly refused.

"Please, take it as an apology." He said seriously and the other man's brow furrowed with a smile.

"What? Dude, seriously it's no problem, I'm not gonna' rob you of a living, man." He laughed and taking Castiel's hand in his own he opened it and pushed the money in his hand before pushing Castiel's hand closed again and, thankfully, missed Castiel's breath catch and his eyes bulge as he could only watch. He took the money this time without argument. He forced himself to speak again.

"So, you haven't been in before. What brings you here..?" He trailed off.

"Dean," He said, taking the hint the other guy had left. Dean, yes, he looked like a Dean come to think of it.

"Well, I guess coffee would be a big part of it," He said with a cheeky smile and Castiel went red and Dean shook his red with a laugh.

"No, seriously, I had a regular place but I kind of wanted to get away from some weirdos there," He said with an amused smile and that was when Castiel realised he was staring. Oh God, Dean probably thought he was a 'weirdo'.

"I see," He added as began wiping the counter. Dean finished the coffee in record speed.

"I'm just relieved I've found a new place for coffee now." He grinned and Castiel beamed in return, seemingly catching Dean off guard as he gulped slightly and threw his coffee cup away, a little disappointed that he had to go into work now.

"Well, it was nice to run into you," He said with a wink and Castiel looked to his shoes with an embarrassed smile.

"You got a name, blue eyes?" Dean questioned curiously as he watched Castiel carefully.

"Castiel." He replied and he was proud of himself for not stuttering. Dean smiled as he heard the name, not teasing, just intrigue

"Castiel," He tested the name on his tongue and Castiel bit back a wistful sigh longing to escape from him.

"Okay then, Cas, I'll see you around." Dean said contently and then he left the shop.

Castiel drew in a shaky breath and let his head fall against the cool counter. Good lord, that man would be the death of him.

XXXXXXX

Dean got into work feeling pretty good about his little encounter and finding a new place to grab coffee without assault every morning. In his happy demeanour he didn't notice the dark atmosphere around the offices or people turning to look at him with sympathy in their eyes, the whispers and gasps as people hurried about.

"Hey, Bobby." Dean greeted as per usual before turning to make his way into the office. Bobby put a hand on his shoulder to stop him, his face solemn.

"Come on, son," He nodded towards his office and Dean followed, confused and finally noticing everyone silence and stare at them. When they got into Bobby's office and the door was closed Dean turned to him.

"What's going on, Bobby?" Dean asked and Bobby stared at him for a moment, as if picturing a memory from long ago and before long sad eyes returned to the present.

"You might wanna' sit down, boy,"

"Bobby," Dean warned, not wanting to be messed around. He wasn't some victim's family member, he was an agent, a profiler.

"He's back, son. Demon's back." He said slowly, carefully analysing Dean's reaction. Dean's insides turned to ice and his stomach dropped as he sank into the chair. After a moment he gathered himself.

"You sure?" He croaked. Bobby nodded, forlorn.

"Positive." Dean just nodded and promptly exited the office, ignoring Bobby's protests. He just wanted to get to work now, more than ever. Looking around he saw everyone staring at him.

"You guys wanna' take a picture? It'll sure as hell last longer." He snapped to the office in general and all at once everyone found some form of occupation at their desks and he stormed to his office and collapsed in his chair.

Demon was back. The thing that'd killed both his parents had returned. It was almost taunting him as this bastard had ripped his life apart time and time again now. He had to get him now.

He had to end this.

**A/N: Okay, new chapters should be more frequent now that I've graduated but I do really want to take my time getting this fic right, please bear with me and stick with it! Please let me know what you think in a review it's insanely helpful and let me know what you'd like to see or any questions or requests, feedback is really motivational. Hope you enjoyed. Thanks for reading! Izzie.**


	3. Chapter 3 - A Lesson In Literature

**A/N: Okay, so I've sat down and planned out what I want and my muse turned decidedly sour so this fic is going to be quite sinister and darker than my previous ones have been and I think it's time to experiment like that, I hope you guys like this, this fic is going to be a long one!**

"Mom!" Dean jolted awake, unsure whether his shout had been aloud or only in his mind but it rang out through his skull and seemed to echo around the room, torturing him. The nightmares came in waves, he found. When he was stressed or overworked they would occur more frequently, like some sort of sick promise, a reminder that no matter how dark you feel now you've had darker. Was it a threat or reassurance, he'd never know.

Sitting up properly he groaned, stretching his back which ached from being in such an awkward position. He'd fallen asleep at their dining table, paperwork and leads all over it; clearly he'd been working too long again and had fallen asleep. He knew it wasn't logical but he was almost angry at his body's constant need for attention, sleep, food, drink, fresh air, it was endlessly frustrating when all he wanted to do was sit, for as long as it took and find the connection that would untangle all the overlapping leads.

Glancing at the clock on the microwave he groaned again when he saw it was five in the morning, no point in going back to sleep now, he'd got a good three hours under his belt which was pretty good considering. It had been three days since he'd rejoined the ever open case of the killer, 'Demon', was his chosen identifier. Dean gave him some credit there, from what he'd seen he wouldn't be surprised if this guy was from hell.

He was working with his second generation of Winchester. Dean's Father, John, had gone near insane searching for his wife's killer and eventually he did find him, in the most painful way imaginable. This murderer had made Dean an orphan and in turn Sam too.

Dean turned back to the papers littered across the table, trying to remember how he'd arranged them. He quickly re-established they were in chronological order and his tired eyes washed yet again over the quotes that were strewn over every page, every victim had their own, every crime scene was gifted one, each handpicked by the killer and left for the police to obsess over. All quotes seemed to be related to death, grief, murder or something alike from famous authors, playwrights, detectives, politicians and theorists and all seemed to be used with the specific intention to rile up the police and further traumatise the family.

All quotes were different with every murder. All except one. The same quote had been used at both John and Mary Winchester's scenes of death and Dean always shuddered at how their quote seemed more delicate than the others and it was permanently engraved into his brain. It was an identified anomaly in the killer's M.O, like he'd seen the Winchester's in a different light to his other victims. There were only two anomalies in the entirety of cases involving 'Demon'. One was his parents quote. The second was him.

Dean was an anomaly.

Demon had a strict routine, method and structure to his kills. He'd choose a household, big or small that didn't matter. It would have one parent/guardian and one child. Always. Many suspected childhood trauma or abandonment in the killer's past. Dean thought maybe the killer believed he was saving the children from having to grow up with a parent who wasn't the 'perfect' guardian. Demon would string them up from the ceiling and then set the house on fire. The child would always be taken from the house and left outside, always with no recollection of how they got there.

The police would scour every inch of the crime scenes, get the very best forensic scientists to analyse every shred of debris but nothing was ever found, except a quote on a piece of paper, never burnt as it was printed on some form of metallic and acrylic based paper.

John had left. He'd walked out in a fit of rage, a heated argument between him and Mary. He went to stay with Bobby, who'd always felt partially accountable for everything that'd happened. Mary was killed because he stormed out. What baffled everyone was _why_ the Winchester's were even targeted. Which brings us back to Dean. Dean was another variable, a second child, it didn't make sense. And Dean hated himself for never figuring it out.

He forgot how long he was staring at the quotes until he saw an hour had passed and decided to get Sammy up, he was joining Dean at work today.

XXXXXXX

Castiel shuddered as he reached the bottom of the stairs of his apartment building in his running gear. Meg was good with Sam and wasn't too outrageous with her prices to babysit but still creeped him out a little. Also, she always seemed to be throwing herself at him which was slightly off-putting but he really couldn't afford a Nanny and she was pretty good at getting there extra early several days a week so Castiel could go for a run with Gabriel.

He managed to make it to the local park which surrounded a large lake and was shrouded by a huge threshold of trees, a rare place to find in the city so Castiel treasured being able to run around it, chasing the sun rise a couple of times a week with his brother. He was more of a natural runner than his brother was and usually wasn't tired out at all when Gabriel asked to stop but Gabriel had grown more accustomed to Castiel's speed and they could even keep up a light conversation whilst they ran now, which made a pleasant change to Gabriel's wheezes and groans.

He met up with his older brother and they began to run in the harsh autumn's biting winds.

"Meg roofied you yet?" Gabriel joked and laughed at Castiel's disapproving frown.

"That's not funny, Gabriel." He scolded and Gabriel puffed out another breath of amusement.

"It is from where I'm standing. Still can't believe Sam likes her,"

"He's indifferent to her, which is a relief because he used to bite all the others and it's only a couple of hours every once in a while so it's not like he's being abandoned or anything." Castiel placated, more to himself than Gabriel who noticed his brother's look of unease and decided to distract him.

"So have you seen the beautiful and mysterious Dean again yet?" He teased wickedly and Castiel reddened and sped up his pace slightly.

"I never should've told you anything," Castiel muttered bitterly and Gabriel smirked.

"Aren't you missing his, what was it, beautiful green eyes and perfect smile?" Gabriel snorted and Castiel blushed even more, hating himself for blurting out this information to Gabriel in his excitement only to find Dean never to come in since. Three days was a long time when you are impatiently waiting for someone.

"Please stop it, Gabriel." He grit out and Gabriel calmed his laughter but kept his grin.

"Sorry, bro. So, have you seen him?"

"No, he's probably found somewhere else to get his coffee due to my complete lack of social communication skills." Castiel sighed with irritation, more at himself than anything else.

"Cassy, you work in the food service industry, throw on your 'service-with-a-smile' and charm the pants off of him," Gabriel snarked as if it were that simple when faced with someone as ridiculously handsome and charming as Dean.

"It's not that easy, Gabriel."

"Sure it is, flirt a little bit, put yourself on show, you'll have him in the bag," He said easily and Castiel worried his bottom lip at the mere idea of him attempting to flirt. He couldn't even use self service check outs without getting flustered, then again those nefarious machines could make a nun swear.

"I'd mess it up, I'd say something stupid or freak him out or ruin everything, it's better if I just keep my mouth shut!" Castiel said in a flurry of words trying to concentrate on the horizon as inky pinks and oranges were dragged like water colours on the palette of the sky and it would've been calming had Gabriel not continued bugging him.

"No! You've gotta' stop avoiding things just cause' they scare you! You like the guy, let him know!" Gabriel demanded with force and Castiel sighed again.

"It doesn't even matter because it's unlikely that I'll ever see him again." Castiel said with an air of finality making Gabriel roll his eyes.

"You're such a pessimist. Anyway, I have a day off work today so I'm coming to work with you, I'll help you out," Gabriel smiled and Castiel nearly stopped running.

"Gabriel, no-"

"No arguments, I want to help you out at the shop and I wanna' be there if this Dean character shows up so I can give him the once over. Meg's watching Sammy for you today so you're free to let me entertain you." Gabriel forced and Castiel groaned, knowing he wasn't going to win.

"Just don't eat all the produce this time, please,"

"No promises, bro."

XXXXXXX

"You wanna' come in whilst I grab some coffee or stay in the car?" Dean asked Sam as they pulled up outside of the coffee shop on the windy Friday morning. It was still only about six thirty and Sam, nearing his teen years, groaned incoherently, shrugged noncommitantly and his eyes drooped, clearly wanting more rest. Dean laughed at his little brother before going to get out of the Impala.

"Alright, big man, I'll grab you something when I'm in there, 'kay?" Sam nodded in relief as he plugged in his earphones to his iPod and Dean knew his brother wanted as long as he could get in the car to prepare for the day and he didn't mind taking his time. He locked the car as he got out, just to be safe, and made his way to the door of the shop, his brain craving caffeine intensely and his eyes craving something different entirely.

He was half way disappointed. Sure, he was enticed by the sweet smell of his favourite morning beverage and the comfortable warmth but the man behind the counter was definitely not Castiel. He had sandy golden coloured hair and amber eyes that surveyed him with little interest as he rested his short legs on the counter, iced scone in one hand, mug of something or other in the other.

"Uh, hey," Dean said awkwardly, feeling thrown now after psyching himself up for facing the other man. What if he'd quit? What if Dean never saw him again? Great work missing that boat Dean.

"Can I get a coffee and a fizzy drink, coke or whatever's fine," Dean spoke, getting out his wallet. The other man got up reluctantly, scowling at Dean slightly because he'd been just about to have a nap. Dean frowned at him in confusion. Surely this guy was supposed to have some semblance of customer service.

"So, you having a good morning?" He asked conversationally.

"I was." The other man said pointedly and Dean narrowed his eyes. Wow, this guy was a jerk. Focus, Dean. Just ask him about the other guy, no harm in enquiring, right?

"Er, random question, I met this other guy here the other day, black hair, big blue eyes, kind of awkward, does he still work here, or…" Dean congratulated himself on the nonchalance of his enquiry. Being a profiler and working in a study of human behaviour had some perks.

"Oh, Cassy, yeah, he'll be down in a sec, he's just- wait, hang on, are you Dean?" The guy asked, his face lighting up in a mischievous grin. Dean started.

"Uh, yeah," He said slowly, his instincts slowly kicking in as he really checked this guy out.

"How do you know who I am?"

"Castiel mentioned you the other day, that's all." The barista said a little too casually.

"Oh, er, right.." Dean replied dumbly.

It was that moment that the man himself decided to make an appearance. Castiel, having just had a shower after his run came in from the back, hair still dripping slightly, cheeks red from the warm water, clothes clinging to his still damp form. Dean couldn't help but stare as the guy raked a hand through his hair, ruffling it and sending a light spray into his perimeter.

He stumbled when he spotted Dean and then offered a nervous smile. He glanced at Gabriel and blushed at Gabriel's knowing smirk.

"Hi, Dean. Coffee?" Dean breathed a sigh of relief at someone less annoying than the short smirking guy who he was trying to ignore. He slumped down onto a chair as Castiel prepared his coffee and Gabriel slid across a fizzy drink for Sam.

When Dean's phone beeped Dean's exhausted eyes almost whimpered in protest because he somehow already knew what he was going to read. Another murder. Another name. Another cryptic quote that he'd have to source and untangle at work.

He ignored the name, not wanting to have his mind conjure another image of an innocent corpse. He was sleep deprived enough already. Instead he let his eyes go straight to the quote and huffed heavily as he read it.

"Work stress?" Castiel's cool voice offered sympathetically and Dean looked to him, coffee outstretched, kind smile, sincere eyes, and he was glad to just have one person he could talk to that was like this. Untarnished by tragedy.

"Something like that." He didn't realise he was coming off as 'mysterious' and that wasn't his intention, his thoughts were more along the lines of insomniac caffeine addict.

"I suck at sourcing quotes," He muttered, more to himself but Castiel brightened instantly.

"I'm, uh, I'm fairly good with quotes, if you want me to have a look?" He gave the suggestion a little half heartedly and was surprised when Dean didn't turn to him with scornful eyes, condescending that a mere coffee guy could've had or be interested in anything intellectual. Dean instead looked up to him, thankful but not hopeful, like he believed Castiel but thought it was a waste of time. He shrugged and read the murderer's quote anyway.

"It takes two to make a murder. There are born victims, born to have their throats cut, as the cut-throats are born to be hanged." He read, eyes following the lines on the screen diligently before turning to Castiel with a polite smile and a look of, 'it's okay if you don't know'.

"Aldous Huxley. He was a British author. Born 1894, died 1963 if memory serves. That quote is all about the worlds impeccable desire for symmetry even in the most ugly of activities. For every up there's down, for every good there's bad, for every murder there must be a victim. An interesting concept. One I've always struggled with personally though."

Dean stared in awe. This guy had just done three hours worth of work for him in the space of a minute, had made in understandable, didn't require five coffees, didn't give him a headache, and looked pretty damn good whilst he said it too.

"That's amazing, man." Dean praised unabashedly staring and Castiel shifted on his feet, smiling a little.

"Didn't Cassy mention, he's a total literature nut. He has the brain to teach at a PHD level. Dude's a genius." Gabriel filled and Castiel immediately turned red.

"Gabriel, that's not-"

"Don't be modest, bro. You know it's true." Gabriel interrupted. Castiel shifted uncomfortably now, seemingly uncomfortable with the idea of boasting, which in Dean's eyes made the guy a saint. He decided to try something.

"I love the old way best, the simple way of poison, where we too are strong as men." He narrated, easily picking the quote of Nancy Murdock's murder from his mind where it was etched into place. Castiel looked up at him in confusion but responded nonetheless.

"Euripides, Greek tragic poet. BC 480. All about the simplicity of death and strength." He answered easily and Dean pushed on in curiosity.

"A murderer is regarded by the conventional world as something almost monstrous, but a murderer to himself is only an ordinary man. It is only if the murderer is a good man that he can be regarded as monstrous." Dean recited smoothly and it made Castiel want to shiver but he repressed the urge. Whatever test this was, he wanted to pass it.

"Graham Greene, English writer. Born 1904, died 1991. My opinion is that this is about society's expectation of the honest man, and the stereotype of the murderer. As bad as a bad man is, he's true, to himself, whereas a once good man turned bad is branded with betrayal and demonised as his prior heroism is turned to something worse than the ordinary man. There's much debate on this view though." He spoke quickly and felt that inner spark of elation that always came with discussing literature and finding someone who was interested. Dean was staring at him like he held the key to life itself, which little did he know, he might for a fair few if he could help decode these quotes. Suddenly, though, Dean was beaming at him.

"You are my new best friend, Cas." He said with a chuckle as he rapidly tapped in details on his phone before pocketing it, grabbing the coffee and the fizzy drink and standing up, placing some money on the counter and moving to leave, to Castiel's disappointment.

"I gotta' go but thanks, seriously, you've just cut about three wasted hours in research time." He laughed and Castiel nodded.

"Any time." He was proud of his reply, no stuttering or unnerving comment. He decided to save the questions for some other time. Maybe when he wasn't distracted by the glow that came with Dean's smile. Or the butterflies that came when Dean stared into his eyes and recited dark quotes and listened to his answer as if he were a prophet speaking the word of the Lord.

"Later." Dean left the shop and Castiel waved weakly with to the man disappearing to his car.

"Wow," Castiel jumped, forgetting completely that Gabriel had even been in the room.

"That was intense. It was like a freaking sitcom, Librarians in Love, I can see it now." He snorted and Castiel glowered.

"Seriously, come on. What even just happened, I got lost." Castiel sighed as he stared out of the window.

"He's perfect." He whined and Gabriel offered him a heavy supportive slap on the shoulder, knowing his brother was in pretty deep.

**A/N: Don't murder me if the quotes aren't sourced right or are a little off! I've done the best my limited researching skills would offer and I made up all of Castiel's opinions about the quotes off the top of my head so don't think that's what people actually think because I've used it to suit what I wanted it to be like. I'm sorry this took a while to get out but I'm enjoying the pace of this fic and have some exciting ideas. Leave a review with thoughts/ideas/questions anything helps and inspires me to write. Hope you enjoyed. Thanks for reading! Belle.**


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